


The Milk of Paradise

by Imogen74



Category: Marvel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-20 15:33:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2433902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imogen74/pseuds/Imogen74
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Human. Loki tutors Jane while she attempts to finish her B.S. at Harvard. Some sexy times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This was not a good idea. 

Most definitely, not.

Jane sat at the table in Starbucks. She hated Starbucks, but Loki liked it, and as much as she was loathe to admit it, she needed his help more than he needed hers.

She was behind in her Romanticism class…

She hated the liberal arts. 

No, hated wasn't the right word.

Exhausted by, more like. 

It all seemed like conjecture to her. Opinions easily disproven.

It wasn't like her physics class…calculus and the like.

She needed to graduate. MIT was waiting, and she just needed to get through this last general ed class to get her B.S. and move on.

Harvard was a lovely place, and it held the promise and prestige associated with the ivy leagues. But Jane wasn't impressed. It was more like a, “Who knows whom,” and a bit of class warfare. 

Loki Odinson was brilliant in everything that he did. And his family was wealthy, Jane could tell.

He was a doctoral student in English Literature at Harvard, and was going to be starting his teaching bit of his stipend this fall. Not that he needed a stipend, Jane thought. Selfish man.

And his brother was a mammoth of a specimen. And Jane was a bit more than a little attracted.

…so…why not kill two birds with one stone?

It had been a casual conversation.

Loki was auditing a physics class (why he was doing this, Jane had no clue, he was a lit guy, in the PhD program…) and he thought that talking about the stuff with someone who had some background would aid him in his attempt to understand the material.

She had shrugged her indifference at the prospect. He was kinda creepy, kinda intense, and very weird; but he knew lit, and Jane needed an “A” on her final paper.

She would not lose out on MIT because of fucking Romanticism.

Not that she was in any real danger, but she wouldn't risk it.

In he sauntered.

And she caught his eye.

He nodded to her, obtained his drink, and went over to her.

“Evening, Jane,” and he sat down.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

He smiled. “I’m well, how are you?”

“Totally jittery from this coffee. Who drinks coffee at 7 pm?”

“Students who are behind in their literature classes, or at least, they should be,” and he chuckled.

“Thanks for the reminder,” and her gaze fell. “So…should we start?” and she began to unpack her stuff from her bag. “We’re on “Kubla Khan,” Coleridge…”

“In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran  
Through caverns measureless to man, Down to a sunless sea,” he recited.

“Ah…yeah…” Jane swallowed.

He laughed. “A pleasure-dome decree…interesting…” and he sipped his coffee.

“It is?” and Jane began to take out her notebook (she was traditional about some things).

“Yes, if one reflects on it.”

“How?”

“Jane, tell me. You are attracted to my brother Thor, is that not so?”

“Um….well…I don’t know him all that well.”

He smirked. “That isn't what I asked you.”

“Well, yeah, I guess so. I mean, lots of the girls are…”

He nodded. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you snippets about Thor, you give me snippets about you.”

“We are supposed to be studying, Loki…I don’t have the time…”

“All work and no play, Jane…” he shook his head.

“I need and A in this class. I really don’t have the time…and why would you want to know things about me?”

Loki shrugged. “Call it another quid pro quo.”

Jane observed him with doubt.

“Thor needs a girlfriend…perhaps if I aided him a bit…” his voice trailed.

“Thor, I’m certain, needs no help with the ladies.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, Miss Foster. I rather think that he knows less about these things than he lets on,” and he took another sip.

Jane looked out of the window at Starbucks. 

The sun was peering its dying light over Boston’s skyline…it was March, and the chill had been swapped for a thick wet air. 

Jane sighed.

She shifted.

She rubbed her arm distractedly and stared at the paper in front of her.

Blank.

This paper, it was gonna be the death of her.

Her eyes found his…he was looking steadily at her.

His eyebrow arched in question.

“Ok…but I had better get a fucking A, Loki.”

“A date with my brother wouldn't go amiss, either,” and he nodded to her.

“I guess not, but I need an A. I don’t need laid,” and she was momentarily horrified at what had just been uttered from her mouth.

“No? You enjoy a healthy sex life?”

“Ah…” Jesus, Jane, fix this. “I mean…sex isn't what I’m currently preoccupied with. I need to get to MIT…”  
“I’ll make certain you get your A, Jane Foster,” and he finished his coffee. “Tomorrow night, my apartment. Eight pm,” he rose as he held her gaze. “When is this paper due?”

“Three weeks…” she sighed.

“Three weeks,” he repeated. He appeared to be thinking something over. And then he smirked. “Child’s play.”

“I hope so…you’re a doctoral student…I’m an undergrad…” she meekly observed.

“An undergrad who will be, this fall, in the doctoral program at MIT. Don’t sell yourself short, Jane. Everything will be alright,” and Loki swept away, leaving her there.

Loki Odinson walked to the bus stop.

He was ruminating on what had just transpired between him and the petite woman.

Why this girl captivated him so, he really couldn't say.

He had met her at the library last fall, she was researching the industrial revolution for her history requirement.

He had discovered that this Jane Foster took one gen ed class a term since her second year, instead of having completed them in one fell swoop as a freshman. 

She knew what she wanted.

And she pursued it with vivacity.

And he was taken.

So, when it happened that he ran into her a week ago and she was stressing about literature, he seized upon the opportunity.

“You happen to know a PhD student in literature, you realize,” and he smirked.

“Yeah…? OH! Yeah…but, we don’t know one another all that well,” she answered.

“This would be the perfect opportunity to see to that.”

“But…”

“I’d be happy to help you, Jane. And perhaps you might aid me in my understanding of physics in return.”

“Why do you need to understand physics?”

“I’m…auditing a class,” he lied.

He had lied, because he figured she would be more inclined to agree if she offered him something in return.

But then he saw her at the bar in Somerville that weekend, and watched her ogle Thor.

And Thor didn't acknowledge, didn't look, didn’t pay attention to her gaze at all.

His first impulse was to go over to Jane and make her stop looking at the oaf physically. 

But then, he thought he could use this to his advantage…

He didn’t go to Jane at the bar. She was with that poli sci student who irked him…

But he went back to his apartment, alone (Thor ushered a lady back to his) and thought about how he could woo this undergrad…

He thought that her intensity would translate nicely in the bedroom.

But, if he were honest, there was a bit more to it than that…

And he entered his apartment, and flung himself on the sofa.

It had been a while since he needed to seduce someone…

Though his might was not comparable to his brother’s, he enjoyed a steady onslaught of lovers.

This might, Loki acknowledged, backfire on him.

But, the whisper of possibility blew its breath on his face, and he thought that it was likely worth it.

Tutor her.

And, perhaps, in more ways than one…


	2. Chapter 2

So twice five miles of fertile ground  
With walls and towers were girdled round;  
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,  
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;  
And here were forests ancient as the hills,  
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

Jane’s intake of breath was deep as she stood at Loki’s door. She was nervous, mostly because she felt like an idiot, but also because she would be divulging things to this guy. She didn't like Thor all that much. He was attractive, to be sure, but she had spoken to him, like, twice. Jane was the type of woman who needed a bit more than one or two quick conversations to make her swoon.

She knocked. 

It was 8:10.

Loki opened the door and smiled. “You’re late.”

“Sorry,” and she walked passed him. “I had a time finding a parking space.”

She took in the place.

Wow.

It was old.

It had hardwood floors, a fireplace, a bank of windows opposite the entry. Very spacious. 

The ceilings were not terribly high…so the place felt cozy. Large doors were stationed around the room, suggesting that there were many other rooms to be found…and a window seat, she noticed, at the bay window in the eating area.

“This place is great, Loki,” and she smiled.

“Yes, well…I like an antiquated look.”

“Most Lit people do,” and she sat down on the sofa.

He joined her. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Nah…let’s get started,” and she took out her stuff.

Loki silently wished they could talk a bit, but Jane had a one track mind. “Very well…shall we read the poem to start?”

“Alright,” and she read it aloud.

He leaned back and listened to her voice chant the verse. It was lovely, listening to her…she tripped a bit over certain parts, but on the whole, she performed well. 

“Poetry,” he began, “Is performance art, first and foremost. And I’d say you’ve done rather well in that area…for a scientist,” he smirked.

“Great. But what does it mean?”

He smiled. “Allow me to give you some background on how Coleridge composed this particular poem…” he paused, and leaned forward, then decided to obtain some wine, despite Jane’s decline for drink.

He came back in with two glasses and handed her one. “The Romantics, one might say, were the hippies of their time. They were experimental with many things…they were nature-lovers…and Coleridge tarried long in such pursuits. He did, in 1797, experience a bout of dysentery, and took opium to see to his malady. He then walked along the Bristol Channel to an old farmhouse and fell asleep reading Samuel Purchase’s “Purchase His Pilgrimage.” He awoke some time later with these images filling his mind’s eye, and penned them. They became that poem you just recited so delightfully.”

“So…he was high?”

“More or less. And Coleridge didn’t care for the verse. He believed it lacked poetic merit.”

“Oh,” Jane replied. “So…it doesn’t mean anything, unless you're on opium.”

Loki laughed. “Sometimes, my dear, the images are enough to justify lack of meaning…and what is meaning anyway? Such things are subjective.”

“See? That’s why I like the sciences. There are meanings, there are right and wrong answers…”

“But without creativity and a critical mind, advancement of your sciences would stalemate. And there is, you surely know, such a thing as theoretical physics…the further one advances in the study, the more odd and more implausible things seem…and therein lies the subjectivity and room for meaning massage….” and he took a sip of wine.

“I guess,” and she shrugged and sipped as well.

“Tell me, where did you grow up?”

She glared at him. “We are supposed to be working on my paper.”

“We are, you recall, engaging in a quid pro quo, Jane. Tell me, and I’ll tell you something about Thor…”

She sighed. “Well…I grew up in Philadelphia. I mean, outside of Philly…no one ever grows up in Philly…ever notice that?” and she smiled, and looked at him.

He returned her smile. 

“Anyway, when I was twelve, my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. Weird, because she hardly ever smoked…but she died about a year later. It was really, really hard…ten years ago now since she was diagnosed,” she finished with a whisper. “Well, then my dad, two years later, was in this massive car accident. He died three weeks later in a coma.”

“My god, Jane. I’m sorry,” and he was sincere.

“Yeah, it was pretty horrible. Fifteen, and suddenly an orphan. Weird, that…bit young to be without any parent, but old enough to really understand the meaning of it all, and to feel utterly alone…” she took another sip. “So… I went to live with Eric Selvig, my dad’s business partner,” she paused. “Hey. I’ve just given you a lot of information…my turn,” and she smiled, a bit wickedly.

He cleared his throat. “Very well, what would you like to know?”

Jane sat back in the sofa…what did she want to know about Thor? And only one thing came to mind…”Does he have a girlfriend?”

Loki looked at her. “Why would I be trying to set you up with my brother if he was already in a relationship?”

“Oh my god. Sorry…that was the only thing that I could think of to ask….”

“You’re not very good at this, are you?”

She shot him a glare. “That’s not fair. Alright, fine. Why did he drop out of Harvard?”

Loki set his glass down. He was hoping she would simply ask him the same question as he had asked her. “Thor dropped out, because our father…his father…gave him an offer, as they say, he couldn't refuse.”

“His father?”

“I am adopted,” and he looked at his hands.

“Oh…wow.”

He smiled weakly. 

“Yeah, come to think of it, you guys don’t share many physical characteristics, except maybe your height…”

“He’s a bit taller,” he mumbled.

“Well, you’re both insanely tall…” Jane paused. “What was the offer?”

“Partner at the family business.”

“Oh…and he didn't give you the same opportunity?”

“No,” and Loki sat back. “Odin and I don’t often see eye to eye. He dislikes my choice of study…he dislikes where I live…he dislikes my clothes, my hair…”

“Your clothes and hair? How old are you?”

“Twenty five.”

“Yeah…he shouldn’t give a shit. Why doesn’t he like your hair?” And Jane looked at it…raven black, about to his shoulders…he looked like a Lit PhD student, in her opinion.

“I have no idea.”

“The length?”

“Perhaps…”

“But Thor has long hair…” Jane recalled. “What a stupid thing.”

He shrugged. “So…that is why Thor left Harvard with two terms remaining before he completed his B.S.”

“What was he studying, again? I forget…” Jane wasn't at Harvard yet when he dropped out. She had met him at the bar in Somerville, it was the closest place to her apartment. 

“Psychology.”

“Ew.”

And Loki laughed. “It has its merits.”

“I have found that Psych students are former Bio majors who couldn't hack it.”

“That is, as you say, unfair…Psychology is a respected discipline, Jane.”

“Whatever…Ok…can we get back to this now?”

He nodded, and they began.

 

“Oh my god…not really?!” Jane was laughing hysterically.

“And then…when she was refused, she attempted to sucker punch him,” Loki laughed.

They were a bit more than tipsy, having consumed the bottle completely…and Loki was retelling a story about one of the grad students in the Lit department…

“Over a fucking paper? You guys are intense.”

“We love our study,” and he sat back.

He looked at Jane.

She was flushed from drink, and her eyes sparkled with wet tears from her violent laughter.

She was lovely.

He cleared his throat. “How would you like to see the garden?”

“The garden?” and Jane looked outside. 

It was pitch dark.

“Um…I don’t think that I’ll be able to see much, Loki…it’s dark outside.”

And he leaned toward her a bit. “That is where you are mistaken, Jane…allow me to show you…”

And he offered her his hand.

And Jane, with a hint of uncertainty, took it.

Loki led her to the garden (he lived on the third floor of an old Victorian house), and they stopped in the center.

There was a water feature, and old stone wall surrounding, and low-hanging trees…Jane couldn't make out the color of the flowers, but she could smell their fragrance, and it had a heady effect on her. 

The grass, she could feel, was soft…the earth just breaking its thaw, and wet with dew…

“…So twice five miles of fertile ground with walls and towers were girdled round;  
and there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree…” he recited, close to her side. And then he pointed to the sky, “And here were forests ancient as the hills, enfolding sunny spots of greenery.”

“The sky?” Jane asked.

“Forests as ancient as the hills…”

“Forests?” she repeated with some doubt.

“Can you not see them, Jane?” he asked, looking at her now.

So she looked upward…and the churn of particles meandering through the black in soft dance, a whirl of energy…and as she peered at it, she closed her eyes, and she saw the canopy of forest in the sky, the heavens bending in a seductive sweep, the trees mimicking the motion on the earth below.

And she smiled.

She opened her eyes and looked at Loki.

He was staring at her, a strange look on his face.

He swallowed, “Well, Jane…shall we continue tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow…” she repeated, and was snapped out of it. “Yeah…but um,” and she cleared her throat. “I have something going on for dinner…so maybe more like nine?”

“On?”

“A date,” she replied.

“Ah…I see…” he looked at his feet, shuffling them a bit. “Of course. Nine…here?”

“Here,” and she turned to return to the house and retrieve her bag.

Loki followed her, and when she was ready to leave, she paused. “Thanks, Loki…tomorrow maybe we can write a bit…I’ll tell you about some physics stuff,” and she turned and left.

Loki nodded as she left.

Damn.

A date.

He hadn't really counted on that being a thing…he thought he’d be dealing exclusively with Thor.

Thor, who hardly knew that Jane was alive, and likely wouldn’t be noticing her at all.

Thor, who was strung out on Sif, that lovely lawyer who was wicked wealthy and beloved by Odin…

But she wasn’t giving him the time of day…

And he sniggered.

Well, he will just need to make certain that Jane forgets about her date tomorrow night. He enjoyed a slight victory in that he knew she wouldn't be going home with him.

 

Jane slumped into her easy chair in her apartment.

She got out her notebook and began to write.

She wrote about Coleridge, and the opium, and the sinuous rills, and the canopy above their heads of stars.

When she put down her paper, two hours had passed, and she had thee pages written.

She needed 10-12.

She also needed a couple of secondary sources.

But it was a start. 

She smiled at the memory of Loki reciting those lines in the garden in the moonlight…

And she thought that, if she was being honest, it was one of the most romantic things she ever had experienced.


	3. Chapter

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted  
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!  
A savage place! as holy and enchanted  
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted  
By a woman wailing for her demon-lover!

“It’s no good,” said Jane the next day, readying herself for her date with Peter. “No good at all…” she lamented her paltry attempt at Kubla Khan.

She gathered her stuff, since she planned on seeing Loki right after dinner, and left her apartment. 

The bar was dark, and she had a time trying to adjust her eyes…but no…there was Peter.

Math guy.

None too subtle, either.

Jane had always thought that a math guy would be a strange one; kinda awkward, distracted…this guy, he looked like a rugby player.

“Hey, Peter,” she said, sliding into the booth.

“Jane! Wanna beer?”

“Um…well…I’ll have a whiskey sour,” and she smiled.

“Hard stuff, huh?” and he winked at her.

“Yeah,” she giggled. Giggled? Jane Foster never giggled.

And then she saw him.

Thor.

He was with a shockingly gorgeous woman…dark hair, tall…

And oh my god he saw her and was coming over to her.

Jane folded her hands on the table.

She swallowed.

“Jane Foster, right?”

“Yeah…hi Thor.”

“This is Sif…” and he held his arm out to Sif, to guide her to Jane.

“Hi,” said Jane.

“Hello,” replied the stunning woman, not unfriendly.

“I understand my brother is helping you with a paper of some sort?”

Loki had squealed. Great. “Ah…yeah…Lit isn't really my thing.” 

“Well, it’s certainly Loki’s, so I’m sure he’ll be able to help you,” and Thor smiled.

Sif appeared to be bored. “I’m gonna go talk to Katie, Thor. I’ll see you in a minute,” and she left.

And Thor nodded, a bit put off.

That’s when Peter returned. “Hey…ah…don’t think we’ve met,” said the confused math student.

“Thor Odinson,” and he sat opposite Jane.

“Peter. Risko…and that’s my seat,” he replied.

“I think that Jane would be delighted at the three of us talking for a minute. Right, Jane?”

“Well…” she replied, a touch unsure. This was awkward. “I mean…I guess so.”

“Right,” said Peter. “Here’s your drink, Jane. I’ll just be going.”

“Wait! Peter!” and she stood in an effort to stop him, but Thor took her arm and guided her back to her seat.

“Give him a minute…he’ll be back. How could he resist your charm and beauty?”

What. “Look, Thor. That was incredibly rude. What the hell is your problem?”

He blanched a bit. “You’re right. I owe you an apology…I’m…here’s the thing…” and he looked over at Sif. “I’m trying to make Sif jealous…I’m so in love with her, Jane…and she doesn’t seem to notice me at all…”

What the actual fuck was he talking about. “You can’t get her to notice you? How is that even possible?”

“Well…” he began. “Look…can you just flirt with me a bit? You know, nothing overdone or anything…”

Jesus. “I dunno, Thor…this is weird…I hardly know you,” and she thought that Loki would be shocked. Wait until she told him.

“Just gimme five minutes, ok? Come up to the bar with me and giggle…”

Giggle. Great. “Ok,” she sighed. She was too accommodating. She should develop more of a backbone…

And in that moment, Jane Foster decided that she would do just that.

She would flirt with the Adonis, and then saunter out like it was nothing. 

They approached the bar and Jane, drink in hand, downed it. “Oh my god, Thor…I didn't know you were so funny,” and she touched his arm. 

“Yeah…well, I have my moments…” he smiled.

“More than that, I’d say…” and she leaned herself into him as he sat on the stool. “You must need to beat the ladies off with a stick…”

“I do have an impressive hammer, though I don’t use it to get rid of unwanted girl attention…”

“Really…?” she pouted. “I’d love to see it…” and at that she took his face, and kissed him soundly on the mouth. “Next time, Thor…” and she went to the booth, grabbed her bag and left.

Thor was left rather stunned, and turned to Sif.

Sif, whose mouth curled a smirk at the scene.

Jane laughed her way outside.

She checked the time.

Seven thirty.

Way too early to head to Loki’s.

She decided to get some coffee…and she thought of the other night, when she complained about drinking coffee so late…she smiled.

 

Loki had just finished showering.

He picked up the place a bit, and looked around. He didn't want it to appear to be a seduction scene…he didn’t think that they’d end up in the sack that night, anyway. 

But a kiss, mayhap…

And he grinned.

He had imagined what it would be like to kiss the nymph-like woman…and he thought that she’d taste like strawberries, and she’d feel like dew, or like the most tender of fruits…her eyes would be heavy when he pulled away…her lids low on her eyes…her breath slightly labored…and she’d reach for him again…and his hands would lower to her torso…he’d breathe her name softly, and she would respond in kind…

A bell.

His eyes snapped to the door.

Jane.

He looked at the time.

8:45.

Excellent. Her date hadn’t gone well.

“Hello, Jane,” he said as he opened the door.

“Hey, Loki,” she replied, entering.

She appeared to be rather jovial, and that soured his mood.

“So…would you like some wine?” he asked.

“Um…alright. But I need to take it easy…I had some whiskey earlier.”

He nodded, and left to procure the wine.

“Have you written anything, yet?” and he sat next to her, handing her the glass.

“Yeah. But I’m pretty sure it sucks,” and she took out her notebook.

He shrugged. “I doubt it,” and he took her notebook. 

No, it didn’t suck. 

But yes, it needed some work.

“Let’s look at this bit of the poem, Jane…” and he took her book and began to recite. “But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted as e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted by a woman wailing for her demon-lover!” he paused. “What does your mind conjure from that?”

“I suppose…a lovely place, but it’s disrupted by the word ‘demon’.”

“That’s right…” and he moved a bit toward her in an effort to both direct her gaze and to be closer. “Here…romantic chasm…what do you see when you hear those words?”

“A divide…though I doubt he means romantic in the way we imagine it to be…” and she laughed.  
“Perhaps not…” and he continued. “Slanted down the green hill…” and he imagined his fingers tracing down her arm…

“Oh! I almost forgot! I ran into Thor at the bar.”

This stopped him. “Is that right? And how is my brother?”

“He’s fine,” and Jane thought about it for a minute. She didn't want to disturb their banter…”He said Hi…that was about it,” she lied. Jane was having fun with Loki, and she thought that talking about Thor would sour the mood.

Mood? What was she thinking…?

She was thinking about last night, in the garden…under the stars…

Loki nodded. “Well, Jane. We should engage in our tit for tat, I imagine…since you are already running into my brother…”

“Oh, alright. What do you want to know?”

“Let’s see…” and he sat back on the sofa, after he poured some more wine for them both. “How many lovers have you had?” the wine and the mention of Thor made him bold.

Her eyes snapped to his. She cleared her throat. “You’re assuming I’ve had lovers.”

“Haven’t you?” and he suddenly was equal parts embarrassed and intrigued.

Jane laughed. “Two.”

He nodded. “And you’re twenty two.”

“Yep.”

“What about serious boyfriends?”

“Just one,” she replied, looking at her glass. She suddenly felt as though the room was close…the air seemed so still, and she felt the tick of the clock on his mantle deep in her spine…”My turn.”

He nodded.

“Who is Sif?”

“Sif? How do you…?”

“He was at the bar with her.”

“Ah…” that made sense. Thor was always following her around like a puppy. “Sif is a lawyer in our father’s own lawyer’s firm. They met at some silly deposition when the company was being sued.”

“Sued?”

“Yes…they are sued rather often. Bit of a joke, really.”

“And you guys, you’re originally from England?”

“That’s right. No flies on you, Jane Foster,” he laughed.

She ignored his pitiful jab. “What made him come to the states? What sort of business…?”

“Oil…and father is still in England mostly. He has a place in Boston because there is an office here,” and he sat up once more, fatigued by the conversation topic.

“Wow,” she said and drank the rest of her wine, while Loki quickly refilled it. 

“indeed.”

She shook her head in an effort to collect her thoughts. “Anyway…this paper…”

“Jane?”

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat. Too soon. “I think you’re progressing nicely.”

“Thanks,” and she offered him a smile.

 

He sat there, listening to nothing besides her breath…steady, rhythmic…and soft. 

She had fallen asleep right next to him on the sofa…and she was holding onto his arm in her slumber.

It was after one am…he should wake her, offer to see her home.

“Jane,” he whispered, and he took his right hand and touched her arm.

“Hmmm?” she sighed.

“I’ll take you home now,” he said softly.

“Home,” she repeated. 

“Yes,” he smiled. “Home?” and he moved his arm away from her grasp.

He began to sit up…and Jane stretched at his movement.

“What’s it like, Loki, to be you?” and she rubbed her eyes.

“I don’t understand the question.”

“I mean…you’re a PhD student, you’ve got this apartment…your family is rich…”

“You’ll be a PhD student soon enough, Jane.”

“Yeah, I guess so…but I’m a bit…nervous about it,” her gaze fell to her hands on her lap. She began to think about gathering up her stuff…

…but then Loki’s hands were on hers.

“Stop it, Jane. You’re brilliant. You’ll make an incredible scientist. I know this, as certain as I know my name…and you’ll unearth truths and create algorithms and paint planets in your mind…because whether you see it or not, you have the heart of an artist…I see it in you…and the best scientists are those with a creative mind…”

Her mouth was slightly agape. 

His eyes were on it.

Now…now was the moment.

He leaned in.

“I kissed Thor,” she blurted out.

“Excuse me?” he froze.

“It was…weird…” 

Loki sat away from her…but kept his eyes on her face. 

“I…I agreed to flirt with him…and then…”

“You kissed him. Thor.”

“Yeah,” and she shrugged.

“Well, I suppose that was enjoyable for you…” and he paused. “Hang on…you agreed to flirt with him? What does that mean?”

“He wanted to make Sif jealous.”

Loki rolled his eyes and stood. “Come, Jane…I’ll see you home.”

“We aren’t gonna stop doing this, right? I mean…because I still need your help,” she asked, standing with her bag.

“No. No, I’ll still help you,” and he went to the door. “Coming?” he asked.

Jane nodded. “Are you angry?”

“Of course not, Jane. Why would you think that?”

“Well…I dunno…” because you were totally gonna kiss me just then, she thought.

“I’m not upset. Let’s get you home…”

They left.

They reached Jane’s building and he offered her his hand to shake. 

At least, that’s what she thought…

Instead, as she went to grasp his hand, he lifted hers to his mouth and kissed it. “Goodnight, Jane Foster,” he looked at her squarely in the eyes.

“Night, Loki…tomorrow night?”

“Sunday evening, Jane…I have plans tomorrow evening. Say about…two pm?”

“Alright. Night, then,” and she went inside.

He watched her go, and with a sneer, left.

 

Thor heard the banging.

He looked at the clock.

Two am.

What the fuck…?

He went to the door, and opening it, was greeted by a fist in the face.

“What the fuck…!” this time, aloud.

“Well, Thor,” said Loki, shaking his hand and entering his brother’s apartment. “You’ve managed to ruin yet another thing I desire.”

“Loki, what the hell are you on about?” and he held his nose, and walked into the kitchen to obtain some ice. “I should wring your scrawny neck for this.”

“Can’t you leave anything alone, Thor? Must you have everything? Can’t I have something for myself?”

The blonde man obtained a plastic baggie, filled it with ice, and wrapped it in a tea towel. “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”

“Jane Foster.”

“Jane Foster,” and he placed the iced towel on his slightly bleeding nose.

“That’s right. The woman you made flirt with you this evening in order to make Sif jealous? That game, by the way, won’t work with her. She’s had plenty of opportunity to be jealous. If she isn't now, kissing Jane in a pub won’t fix that,” and he sat at the table in the kitchen.

Thor sat across from Loki. “You like Jane, then.”

He glared at this brother. “You know, I always wondered why Odin chose you for partner…and now I see it…your powers of observation are unparalleled.”

“Does she like you?”

“I have no idea,” and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I haven’t seen you like this in a while, Loki…”

“Don’t even say her name…”

“I wasn’t going to mention Sigyn…”

“Thor. Shut your fucking mouth.”

He laughed. “Well, it’s good to know that you’re passed it.”

“I am…I just don’t care for indelicate reminders.”

“You fall hard, Loki…but Jane seems like a nice enough girl.”

“Woman.”

He gave a curt nod. “What is your plan of action to win her over?”

“Well…I was about to kiss her, and then she brought up the fact that she kissed you this evening, and it rather killed the mood…”

Thor shrugged. “Sorry.”

“I had thought that she was attracted to you, but I’m starting to think that I was mistaken…she honestly behaved like kissing you was no big deal.”

“Maybe she’s attracted to you. Wouldn't that be convenient?”

He laughed. “And shocking that something might actually go my way where you are concerned…”

As for Jane Foster, she was wide awake.

She was gazing on the waning moon.

The soft orb was trepidatious in her moment … slinking slightly, not with purpose or passion.

Not like Loki…

And Jane thought that yes, he was odd.

Yes…he was intense…

But yes, he was handsome…

And she would bet her life that he had been attempting to kiss her.


	4. Chapter 4

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,  
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,  
A mighty fountain momently was forced:  
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst  
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,  
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:  
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever  
It flung up momently the sacred river.  
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion  
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,  
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,  
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;  
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far  
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The promise of April was to be spied in every bud of leaf, every scent of bloom, every blade of grass.

And Jane was laying prone in her meagre back yard, staring at the sky.

She loved the sky.

It was where her passion lay, and she thought silently how odd that was…her passion, out of reach. Her desire, something which couldn't be touched; intangible, infinite, and strange. 

But this is what she wanted, and MIT would give it to her. 

And Loki had given her something. He had shown her that her sky could be perceived as something familiar, by virtue of how it was described. How it was described…

She sat up and considered this.

Jane had never been much of a book lover. She had read novels and stuff because it was expected of her to obtain the necessary “A”. She enjoyed some stories, but never reflected on the language employed to tell them. 

But words are powerful. They hold so much of how we are perceived, how we think about things, how we feel our passion. Jane had never really thought about that before, at least, not with any conviction.

It now seemed so obvious, and Loki had opened that door for her. 

And she became emboldened slightly, both by virtue of this realization, and by the impulsive kiss she had planted on Thor.

Jane was no mouse.

She wasn't meek.

She shouldn't limit herself in any way.

Use words to get what you want…she had an impressive vocabulary, she just didn't employ it with as much regularity in her casual conversation, preferring the familiar over the formal.

But Loki was both familiar and formal in his speech.

Maybe leaning a bit toward the formal, but whatever. 

She needn't be absurdly formal…just, maybe, use more striking a language. She certainly had the tools.

And she smiled.

It was Sunday afternoon, and she had spent the entire morning on the paper.

It was more than half way finished…but she was stuck a bit on part of a stanza, and she needed to bounce ideas off to flesh it out.

It was then that her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Jane…something has come up. I need to reschedule our meeting.

Shit. Well, the paper wasn't due for two and a half weeks.

Ok. When can you meet?

Send.

Friday?

FRIDAY?

Something was going on. 

Everything ok Loki?

Send.

Of course…I have an unexpected workload. Your paper isn’t due for a couple of weeks. You’ll be fine. Friday at 7?

She sighed. 

7\. Your place?   
Send.

There was a pause.  
Yes. That’s fine, if you’re agreeable.

What.

Um…yeah.

Send.

Wonderful. See you then.

Jane dropped the phone to the ground.

Something was wrong…maybe he regretted that rather intimate moment the other night. 

And Jane thought about that moment…and the way he had been looking at her…how he had complimented her…Loki had called her brilliant. Loki. Loki, who was exceptionally brilliant had called Jane’s intellect superior. 

She grinned.

Or maybe he had been trying to get in her pants…they had had a lot of wine, and she had fallen asleep on him.

Oh my god, she gasped, and stood.

She had forgotten she had fallen asleep on him.

How humiliating!

She rubbed her face and felt horrified.

She should call him…

She momentarily considered her options…

Call him.

Text.

Visit.

Ignore it.

Jane decided that she would wait at least a day or two and then decide how she should proceed, or if she should proceed at all. Maybe ignoring it was best…he was still going to help her.

And a small part of Jane thought that she wouldn't have minded at all if he had actually kissed her. He was interesting. Fairly humorous. And not bad looking…  
Actually, now that she thought about it, Loki was pretty hot.

He had interesting facial structure…nice eyes…tall…that accent…his voice…

And Jane walked into the house. 

And these attributes were all enticing enough for Jane Foster, aspiring astro-physicist, Harvard undergrad, MIT-bound woman. 

She slumped into her couch.

She pulled out her calculus textbook and began to decipher the study of change.

 

Loki Odinson loved playing games.

He had, what one could only call… a mischievous streak in him.

And now, he was playing a game with Jane.

Nothing too terrible…but he thought that if she was going to stop his kiss by mentioning his brother, then why not play a bit? 

He wasn't jeopardizing her paper by making her wait a few days. She had plenty of time to see to it.

No…but he did think that she would benefit from some space.

What was it…? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?

He was banking on that adage pulling some weight on the heart of Jane.

So, he would have her wait…

He would have her over on Friday, and perhaps order take out. 

He would assert his position as tutor…and then back off slightly.

He imagined that this would take at least until her paper was due…and he thought that reward which awaited him at the end would be well worth it.

He was nothing if not patient.

He poured himself some coffee…4pm.

Loki sat at his desk and took out his initial research for his dissertation…”The Emergence of the Gothic and the Romantic’s Response.” “Romantic” being Shelley, Coleridge, Byron, Bronte… And he thought this topic was too broad, it needed massaging and tweaking…

 

“Loki…” and she giggled.

Jane didn’t giggle, not really… “What’s funny, Jane?”

“My shoulders hurt, could you help me out?”

He looked at her. 

She was wearing a black tank top and black lace panties.

He went over to her and situated himself behind her, wrapping his long legs around her, and began to massage her shoulders.

Down her arms.

He took the shirt and began to lift it up…

He discarded it and moved his hands to her breasts…she leaned back…and her head rested on his shoulder…

“Loki…” she breathed.

And he found her mouth…

He snapped out of it to find his erection pulsing.

“Damn,” and he got up and went to his bedroom to see to it, and to finish his reverie…

 

Over the next few days Jane went about her business of classes and such.

She had drinks with Darcy, her Poli Sci buddy.

She aced her calc exam.

Aced her physics.

Aced her o-chem 2.

The profs last stand before finals…

And then there was Romanticism, and her prof was a jerk.

She thought that Loki would be a much better teacher than this guy.

And her mind momentarily thought about just everything his acumen included…

She smirked.

But her newfound confidence was empowering, and she enjoyed dexterity in her language…Darcy had commented on it.

Her shell was cracking, and Jane relished the air it afforded.

This chasm would be mended, as she put on her skirt and black top.

Why should she remain frumpy? She had a nice enough frame.

Boots. Boots were always bad ass.

She brushed her hair.

Perfume…just a touch…

There, she thought looking in the mirror. She looked nice.

Why she was attempting to look nice to work on a paper, she didn’t care to admit (though it had much to do with how much her tutor had grown in her esteem over the past few days of absence).

She drove to his apartment and made her way up the stairs.

She rang the bell.

It took a minute, but Loki answered, and his eyes grew slightly wide.

“Jane…you look…” he paused. “You’re wearing a skirt.”

“I am, yeah. Can I come in?”

He nodded and moved aside, making certain to get a full look at her ass as she passed.

This might be a long night.

Stick to the plan, Odinson.

“So Jane…how far have you gotten?” and he moved to the kitchen to get the Thai. “Hungry?”

“Ah…a little, yeah.”

Loki returned with the containers. “Here, I ordered out,” he was casually indifferent.

“Thanks,” she smiled warmly. His eyes flitted fleetingly to her mouth, but remained standing.

He put his hands in his pockets.

“I can take a look…” and he took her notebook. He paced a bit, reading what she wrote. “This, Jane, isn't half bad…but we need to see to this bit…”

He continued in a rather authoritative manner throughout their discussion.

And though Jane was a bit confused, she didn't dislike it.

“Mazy motion,” he restated. “Through wood and sacred river ran…” he looked at her with a discerning eye. “What is a mazy motion, Jane?”

“Ah…slow?”

“Yes, I’d say so…” and he sat next to her. “Why is a sacred river running slowly?”

“Because…well…there’s a divide, a war, right?”

“Impending.”

“Maybe…the water is afraid?” and she chuckled at the thought.

“That’s not completely untrue…it is an oracle…the river represents unease at the conflict, and it is sacred because it is true, virtue always trumps malice,” he paused. “But ‘Mazy motion,’ a glorious use of language, would you not say?”

Jane nodded, and sipped her wine.

Loki stood again. He began to pace. “And that is where power lies, is that not so? Manipulation of language, precision and otherwise, that is what makes an opponent adroit…”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the use of language, Jane. Do keep up.”

“But, the poem…”

“Coleridge used language, Jane, to describe exactly what I am talking about here,” and he stopped.

“And do you, Loki, use language against opponents?”

“Yes, quite often.”

Jane smiled. “And what else?”

He paused. “What else…?”

“What else do you use language for?”

“Ah…”  
“Poetry?”

He cleared his throat. “Occasionally,” he looked at his feet. “But what I am capable of is not the issue at present…”

“Oh, I dunno. Whaddya say we expand our quid pro quo? I mean, since Thor is obviously not interested in me, and you are obviously not interested in physics.”

He looked at her, brow furrowed. “What are you suggesting?”

“Write a poem.”

“Write a poem,” he repeated.

“Yeah…and I’ll…” what will she do? 

“I’m not adept at creative writing, Jane. That’s not my area…”

“Well, then I’ll write one too,” shit. Why did she just offer that.

He sniggered. “You are going to compose a poem.”

“Why not?” she returned, defensively.

“Well…I mean to say…”

“Are you saying that I can’t do it?” and she rose from the couch.

“Well, let’s just say that this is not something I’d believe to be within your capabilities.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” and his eyebrow arched as he smirked.

“Alright. Challenge accepted. You write a poem and I’ll write one, and then tomorrow we’ll compare them.”

His frame lengthened as he stood as erect as his body would allow, asserting his height and his intellectual prowess. “You think that you can outdo me, Jane?”

“Maybe.”

His eyes squinted. “Accepted.”

“Great. Ok…” and she fidgeted. “Um…can we get back to this now?”

He nodded. 

Time to sit next to her…he had stayed away, controlling the discussion both with his physical proximity and manner, as well as keeping the discussion of the poem.

Her challenge took him unawares, but thinking about it for a minute, he decided that this might work to his advantage.

And he sat there, stealing glances at her exposed legs. 

The way her finger would twirl a strand of hair distractedly.

The way she would worry her lip.

And he was utterly distracted, answering her questions in a bit of a haze…

And Jane would find herself looking at him when he wasn't paying attention to her. 

His hair would brush his cheek.

His lower lip would dip slightly when he spoke on occasion, like an adorable tic.

His brow would crease when he was thinking about something with some complexity.

And she was taken in, he was exactly the type of person she wanted to spend her time with. And her mind thought about what it would be like to kiss him…

“So…I think that you’re in a good place, here. You need your secondary sources to support your interpretations…”

“But we haven’t finished dissecting this just yet…there’s a bit more…”

“That’s right, but you need two ancillary sources, is that correct?” he looked at her.

“Yes.”

“So, obtain one of these, and find evidence to support what you have, and then we work on the rest of it. I’d estimate you have about eight pages here.”

Jane nodded and stood.

And she was suddenly taken with a thought, an impulse. 

“Thank you so much, Loki,” and she wrapped her arms around his torso. 

He swallowed…he hadn’t seen that coming. His arms moved around her frame. “Of course, Jane. It’s been a pleasure.”

She pulled away, and took up her stuff. “And I’m gonna kick your ass at that poem,” she winked and left .

Ooohhh. She was in for it.

And he thought about her body against his…her rise and fall of breath…her hands on his back…

And he needed to take care of himself once more.


	5. Chapter 5

The shadow of the dome of pleasure  
   Floated midway on the waves;  
   Where was heard the mingled measure  
   From the fountain and the caves.  
It was a miracle of rare device,  
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

Jane sat playing with her pen.

She should be writing that stupid paper.

Or doing calculus.

Or physics.

O-chem was too annoying to think about, and though o-chem 2 was much more difficult that o-chem 1, it wasn't as hard as everyone whined about.

But no, she sat there, writing a poem. 

Competitive, thy name is Jane.

She didn't honestly believe that she’d be able to out-do Loki, but she thought that she might be able to surprise him.

She also thought that she was becoming a bit more than enamored with her tutor.

He was assertive, yet unsure.

Bold, but kinda sweet.

He seemed like he held some secret sorrow, but was able to channel it into a worthwhile occupation.

And the command which he held her in, she was quite taken by. He was authoritative and though not quite imperious, certainly emphatic in his passion. 

He was gonna make an awesome prof one day.

And Jane thought about what it would be like to be in a class of his…

She imagined he would be somewhat distractible, sometimes to the point of apparent possession; he would entertain questions, and always have something positive to say alongside his criticism (at least, that was how he taught her). 

And she thought that the girls in his class would be taken…

And she paused.

Hmmm…Jane shifted in her seat.

Unsettling, that was…the idea that girls would be taken with Loki.

And she sat back in her seat at her desk.

She looked at her poem.

Ah, she thought. She was taken with Loki…

This…this was not good. 

He was a doctoral student.

He was brilliant.

Hot.

Dammit. This was terrible. How was she going to deal with this realization? A crush? 

He was only being nice…he didn't like her…and why would he…he likely had loads of girls interested…

But, she thought, she seldom saw him with a woman, he was usually by himself. Or with a few fellow PhD students…never just him and one other person, man or woman.

Maybe he was gay.

Or asexual.

That would be a shame, she thought. Asexual Loki…and she grinned. Someone somewhere should be able to enjoy him. 

Shit…she was hung up…how did she not see this before?

Because, she believed, that the idea was too far removed from her purpose. Graduate and go to MIT.

And she couldn't let a little thing like a crush cloud her ambition.

Leave it, Jane Foster. There would be plenty of time for play come summer.

And her heart did whisper…maybe he liked her, too…maybe he would wait a few weeks…

Stop it, Jane. Remember yourself.

She looked at the time…

Yep. Time to go.

Crumpled sheets of paper littered the floor of his apartment. 

He was no poet, but what was more pressing at present was that he couldn't decide if he should be confessing something to Jane in his verse, or just offer some transient rubbish to see to the bet.

He had composed two poems which pleased him, and he re-read them…

Perhaps he should insist that she go first.

Loki stood and picked up the trash, and went to brew some coffee.

He wished that there was a way to just grab her and kiss her when she entered without causing her disquiet.

Probably not the best way to proceed.

But this woman had captivated him, much more than he had thought at the outset of the enterprise, and he was irritated at his distraction.

She was quick and funny, as much as she was lovely and enticing.

He poured the coffee and sighed.

He heard a knock at the door, and his palms began to sweat.

Fuck it all, Loki. Get over it and answer your fucking door.

“Hi Loki,” and she seemed a bit nervous…

Must be the bet.

“Hi Jane,” and he allowed her entry.

“So, I haven’t really worked on the paper all that much…I was, well…”

“Writing a poem?” and he smirked.

“Yeah,” she replied sheepishly.

“Let’s see to Kubla Khan first, Jane. Then we can read the poems,” and he sat down next to her.

“Ok,” she took out her stuff. 

“Alright. Let’s begin,” and he took her notebook.

 

About an hour had passed, and Loki was rattling off stuff at wicked speed. “Here…this part always gave me pause: “The shadow of the dome of pleasure floated midway on the waves; where was heard the mingled measure from the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, a sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!” Why would a pleasure dome contain caves of ice?”

“Well…” began she. “It begins with the dome casting a shadow…like, something foreboding, and then…maybe the ice is the thing…the thing that puts out the passion?”

“What passion?”

“The passion of the scene Coleridge describes…or maybe it’s false somehow? Maybe it seems like everything is alright, but it really isn’t.”

Loki nodded. “I think that’s very good, Jane,” and he smiled and clapped his hands together. “Well, what do you say I get us something to drink and you read your poem?”

“Umm…” she swallowed. Retain yourself…remember, you are impregnable Jane… scientist, aspiring PhD student at the world-renowned MIT…you shall not be ruined by a poem! (even if she will be reciting said verse to an absolutely intellectual mammoth of a man who happens to be devastatingly handsome and rather nice…)

“Jane?”

“Yeah?” her eyes snapped to his face.

“I asked you if you wanted coffee or wine.”

“Oh…ah…” wine, say wine. “Wine would be nice.”

He nodded. Excellent.

He poured the wine and he steadied himself. Swallowed. Why on earth was he nervous?

Because, he thought, it had been so long…and Sigyn had broken his heart…

He had never quite been the same after that debacle…proposing to her, and have her turn him down. He had been so certain, so much that he had been haughty about it.

This had given him a bit more than pause about love and such…perhaps he didn't know as much as he had imagined. 

Leveling, to be sure. 

Loki had regarded himself as an expert on much.

And Sigyn’s refusal had devastated him, not only because she had been the first woman he had fallen in love with, but because he was certain of her acceptance. Of course they would be married…  
But the lady was not to be persuaded, and she left him. 

And he was a beaten, broken, subdued beyond reasonable recognition of his self pre-Sigyn.

He walked into the room and handed Jane the glass.

“Thanks,” she said, holding a folded piece of paper. “I dunno, Loki…I’m really not a writer…”

“Neither am I,” and he sat on a reclining chair next to the sofa.

“Please. Don't you need to be a writer to be a…you know…doctoral student of literature?”

“No. One needs to be able to write formally, persuasively; creativity and loose use of language is not desirable when composing an academic paper.”

“See…even your common discourse is impressive,” she opined.

“Jane. Come now, this was your idea.”

“I know! I know…” she sighed. “Alright.”

Loki nodded and smiled encouragingly.

“Ok,” and she cleared her throat. “The sun, they said, was too bright for my eyes. Keep stationed on the ground, my child, and all will be fine. Yet my face felt too compelled upwards, and I stretched as far as my neck would allow. Tranquil seas of dust and opaque Orion with his belt sing softly to me. A nebula of song, a quiver of bow held by a centaur, and my mind rips through the atmosphere like the arrow let from the pressure,” she paused, stealing a glance at Loki. She didn't look long enough to discern any hint of reaction, so she continued. “And on I shall fly, leaving the earth below to dance along the forest of stars…” 

She stopped and looked at him.

She grinned in hopeful reaction.

Loki stared at her. 

“Jane.”

“Yeah?”

“That was…”

Oh no…”Yeah?” her voice dropped.

“Magical.”

“It was?” and her face lit with pleasure.

“It was. You captured the scene perfectly.”

“Ha!!” and she clapped her hands. “See? Not so bad…”

“No indeed…”

“Let’s hear yours, then.”

Loki cleared his throat, and stood up. 

He went to his desk by the window in the sitting room and looked at both of the efforts he didn't toss. 

He decided on one, and went back to stand in front of Jane.

His eyes fleetingly went to her face, and his right hand entered the pocket of his black pants while his left held the paper.

“The dark of night presses against me in a cold embrace.  
My mind writhes its torment in subtle anguish.  
No more is solitude a comfort…she has long lost her languish pleasure  
And pleasure, so tantalizing a macabre dream for the forlorn, cannot kiss the mouth of a vagabond.  
In ceaseless wander I meander through many mazes of chill  
In hopeless want I stake my claim to the shapeless spring of churning possibility…  
It is possible, the nymph proclaimed with her lute  
And her aria pulses my ears with a mock   
No longer can I covet the unthinkable   
The absurdity of my tonic too saccharine a taste  
But she remains in front of me,   
Out of grasp  
Time out of mind  
And a tenor too gentle to be heard  
By any soul but my own.”

He finished with a sigh. 

Perhaps he should've read the one about the garden…

He looked to Jane, sitting on the sofa staring at him.

His hand fell to his side. “Well?”

“Wow.”

He shrugged.

“Wow, Loki,” and her face suddenly hardened a touch. “Hang on. You can write poetry! That was awesome!”  
“Thank you.”

“No really,” and she stood. “It was really good.”

“Thank you, Jane.”

She nodded. “What did it mean?”

“Well…what do you think that it means?” and he handed her the paper.

She smirked and took it, sitting down. “Ummm…well, you’re alone. It’s a close night…and you aren’t happy anymore being alone,” she looked up at him.

He nodded.

“And…ah…you desire pleasure,” she paused. She swallowed. “But, um, you aren't able to obtain it because you are wandering…but…let’s see,” she ran her finger over the place she was reading. “There exists a possibility…and yet…hmm…you aren’t convinced that it exists…and this person, she is right in front of you, and she…let’s see…” she paused. “And she has something that only you see…” she looked at Loki. “That about right?”

“Spot on,” replied he, nodding, and sitting down on the recliner.

She smiled. “Oh…” and she thought about it a moment…what if this wasn't a game? What if he was into some girl? Her poem had been honest.

Fuck.

She was too late.

“Well, Loki. I’m sure that if you say something to this girl, she’ll ease your loneliness.”

“You think so?”

“Sure,” and she sat back into the sofa. “I mean…come on. You’re smart. Kinda funny…”

“Just kinda?” he smirked.

“Yeah…” and she rolled her eyes. “And, I mean…she can’t be stupid, you wouldn't like a stupid girl.”

“That’s certainly true. She is definitely not stupid.”

“I hope not,” she paused. “What is she like?” she lowered her eyes and played a bit with the hem of her shirt.

“She is,” he paused. “Delightful.”

“Ok…?”  
“She is, a beautiful mind…a seeker of adventure, she cavorts with the stars, and she is bold, brash, and a singular beauty.”

“Wow.”

He nodded. 

“You’d better snatch her up before someone else does,” and she laughed.

“I am attempting to,” and he looked at her.

“Any luck?”

“I’m not sure…in the poem, you can see that the possibility hasn't been actualized.”

She nodded. “Well, what have you attempted to do to win her over?”

“Well…” and he folded his arms in front of him. “Let’s see…I have met her for coffee, ordered take out for her, wined her, as they say, though not dined in the strictest of senses…I have listened to her stories, offered her mine…attempted to set her up with my brother, discovered she had no interest in him, have been aiding her in her academic pursuits, and I wrote a poem for her,” he paused. “I think that about covers it,” and he looked at her directly in the face.

Jane swallowed. “That’s quite a lot,” her voice quaked. “Maybe she isn’t as smart as you think,” and she closed her eyes. Holy fucking shit.

“No…I think that she simply doesn’t regard herself as something anyone would desire.”

“Maybe she thinks that no one like you would desire her.”

“Why do you think she would believe such nonsense?”

“Um…I dunno…because, maybe…maybe she thinks you’re out of her league,” and she laughed a touch.

“Out of her league,” he repeated.

Jane nodded and looked at him. 

“What rubbish.”

Jane shrugged. “Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“You are the smartest, most incredible guy I’ve met. And I simply cannot believe that that poem was about how you feel about me.”

“Believe it, Jane Foster.”  
Jesus. “Really?” she smiled.

“Really…” and he went over to her and sat next to her. 

He swallowed, and leaned toward her.


	6. Chapter 6

A damsel with a dulcimer  
   In a vision once I saw:  
   It was an Abyssinian maid  
   And on her dulcimer she played,  
   Singing of Mount Abora.  
   Could I revive within me  
   Her symphony and song,  
   To such a deep delight ’twould win me

Breath hitching in her throat…

“Hey mom, how do you kiss a guy?”

“With passion, love…and with conviction,” replied Mrs. Foster.

“What does that even mean?” asked nine year old Jane.

“Well, it means if you’re gonna do something, do it right.”

Pulse pounding in his veins…

“Sigyn, I do so love the way your mouth feels against mine,” he looked at her in ardor.

“You are too much, Loki…intense and distracted.”

The energy was palpable, stinging electric waves between the pair drove them close.

And his lips touched hers with some hesitation, and Jane closed her eyes…

Soft at first, and his hand went to the back of her head, his fingers grasped her hair in subtle frenzy.

Small pecks they exchanged in curious exploration, until the moment demanded more, and he deftly opened her mouth with his own, his tongue in search of hers.

Jane emitted a groan from deep within her, and this encouraged his action, delving deeper and insisting her rejoinder.

He eased her back into the sofa…one hand at her back, the other running through her long locks.

And Loki did cry himself, for it was a communion of minds in corporeal form.

Over and over their kiss lazed on, dancing on the lip of the waves of intimacy.

Until he finally pulled away, choking on his fever. “Jane…” and touched her face with a pant. “Jane…if you wish to wait…to stop…I need to do so now…”

She nodded, unsure of what to do. She swallowed…  
He sat back, staring at her. “Well?”

“I…” and she brushed her hair away. 

“We needn't do anything you are uncomfortable with…” he paused. “But, I suppose, I am right in assuming you reciprocate?”

Jane laughed. “Ah…yeah. I do.”

He nodded, smiling.

“It’s been a while since I had a boyfriend…”

“How long?”

“Since the beginning of sophomore year. He was too much of a distraction, and I needed to study.” She looked at him. “What about you?”

“Well…just over a year,” his gaze fell.

“Oh. Were you in love with her?”

He nodded. “I had proposed.”

“Wow.”

He smirked. “I don’t really want to talk about her, Jane. She was…in a certain way, cruel, but I was foolish, and I learned a great deal from the experience.”

“Loki?”

“Hmm?” and he sat back and took her hand.

“I haven’t had sex since him…it’s been two and a half years.”

“So?”

“So…I’m a bit nervous.”

“Silly Jane…that doesn’t matter. I won’t make you do anything…nothing…that would cause you disquiet. You are quite safe with me.”

And Jane thought about her resolve, her insistence that she shed her shell…

And she smiled, and climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. “I believe you,” she whispered, and she leaned down and kissed him.

Loki was taken aback at her action, but was delighted all the same.

His hand held her ass, pulling her closer, while he assaulted her mouth. 

Jane’s hand threaded his raven hair, tugging on it and asserting herself…”Let’s go to your bedroom…” she breathed as she pulled away for air.

His eyes remained on her mouth. “Are you quite sure?”

“Yes.”

And he pulled her legs around him, and stood with her wrapped about his frame.

The whole while he relished her sweet, soft feel, exactly as he had envisioned it.

He sat her on the edge of his bed, and knelt before her…

A damsel with a dulcimer in a vision once I saw…

His hands caressed her face.

He opened her legs and pulled her against him.

And he began to caress her neck, small kisses as he dragged his lips along the exposure of derma…tender and delicate in its plane…

He found the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head.

He unhooked her bra and released her breasts from their confine.

And he massaged them gently.

Jane cooed her pleasure, and pulled his tee shirt off in response.

Her hands graced slowly over his torso, and she felt the subtle cords of muscles flex and react to her touch.

She smiled.

It was an Abyssinian maid and on her dulcimer she played…

He stood, and Jane began to undo his pants…

He pushed her softly back onto the bed, and with her feet, she directed his pants off.

He was on top of her, and made his way down, found her nipple, and nuzzled it with his mouth, feeling her back arch in response.

And Loki then undid her jeans, pulling them off…

“Jane?”  
“Yeah?” she lifted her head to look at him, wide eyed and all nerves.

“I…” he cleared his throat. “Would you be uncomfortable with me…” his hand massaged her inner thigh. “With me…?”

“Oral sex, Loki?” she grinned crookedly.

He smiled. “Right.”

“No…I’m not uncomfortable.”

He smiled and nodded, and dove in.

…and as though from deep within the very depths of Jane, where something had laid dormant for many years…he siphoned her fluid…it was a spring of realization…a symphonic tune, a tranquil tempest…and Jane felt it acutely.

She shook her orgasm…undoing her utterly, for never had she come before.

“Oh my god Loki,” she whispered.

“Are you alright?” he asked, emerging from between her legs.

“I can’t see…”

“Ah…is that a good thing…?” he placed his hands on the bed to look directly at her. He thought that she had responded nicely…

“I never orgasmed before.”

“Never?” he asked with doubt.

“No.”

He swallowed, and a mischievous look betook his visage. “Well, Jane. I have no doubt that I can see to that problem repeatedly.”

“Ha…yeah…” she swallowed and looked at him. “I’m on the pill, you know,” and she took his erection in her hand, and began to tug…

He closed his eyes. “That is the best news I’ve heard in quite some time…aside from your reciprocating feelings…” and he swallowed. “However…” and he pulled away. “Safety first, Jane.”

“I’m clean.”

“Never doubt your tutor, Miss Foster.”

“But…”

“How very contrary you are,” he replied, unwrapping the condom and rolling it onto his arousal. “What should we do about that?”

“Ah…”

He loomed over her, and smiled wickedly. “Shall I leave you breathless…begging me to allow your release?” his hand found her sex, and he rubbed it softly.

Jane swallowed.

“Shall I tease your glorious sex more with my tongue…or shall I fill you fully?” and he kissed her neck.

“Now, Loki.”

“Now what, Jane,” he said into her neck.

“Now…I want you inside of me now.”

“Say please, Mr. Odinson…”

She forced him to look at her. “You have got to be kidding me,” her eyes smiling.

He laughed a touch, then resumed his stare. “Do I look like I’m kidding, Miss Foster?”

No. No he did not. 

“Please…” she whispered.

And he complied.

Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me her symphony and song, to such a deep delight ’twould win me…

His movement began, and Jane’s verbal release was a song to his ears…he felt only her beneath him in her steady heated depth.

And Jane cried her delight.

And with motion so mazy he began to quicken…

Such a dome of pleasure did build between them…

So symphonic the sacred river which beaded between their bodies in turn!

And within his core he felt her…he rose up from his station to see her fully…

His right hand traced her breasts…down her stomach…back up to her face, which held such a look…of desire, of insistence…of need…

It was then that she came…

And it undid him completely…he could hold no longer…

And Loki orgasmed, and fell to his elbow, hair in face, breath attempting to steady him.

“Jane…” he said. And he rolled to his side.

“Yeah…?”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah…”

He swallowed and looked at her…sweat pearling his brow. “I’m glad one of us is…”

She laughed. “You’re not?”

“I’m…I cannot really say,” he laid on his back, his torso heaving still from the tumult of his release. He took off the condom and tossed it into the bin by the wall.

“Well…I know what to say.”

He looked at her and smiled…touching her hair. “What’s that, my sweet?”

“I love poetry.”

And he laughed.

 

“That is very good…but this bit…it requires a closer look,” they were sitting on his bed with their underwear on, working on the paper and sipping wine.

“Can I have a closer look of something else, first?” she asked with heavy lidded eyes.

They had already been at it three times…and Jane insisted that she work on that paper…but he was too irresistible….

She placed her foot in between his legs.

“Miss Foster, that is counterintuitive to a speedy paper completion,” but he ground against her foot and felt himself stir.

“But…Mr. Odinson, I’ve been such a good pupil,” she protested.

“True,” his hand moving up her thigh. “But you are distractible….how can we see to that concern?”

“Is it concerning? My concern is the heat in here…” and she removed her tee shirt, her bra long gone.

Loki swallowed. “You are correct..an air conditioner would be advisable…”

“Or less clothing…”

“Once more, you are so very right, nymph…” and he crawled over to her. “That would see to our problem as well…”

“The pupil tutoring her tutor…?” and she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him toward her.

This stopped him. He pinned her arms down, shackling her to the bed. “Ah…no you don’t, Miss Foster…that won’t do. I shall need to assert my position as teacher if you aren't careful.”

“Promise?” she smiled.

And his mouth hell on hers to silence her.

His erection ground against her center, still obstructed by her underwear. 

On went the condom, off their undergarments, and in he went, with Jane turning him immediately onto his back.

“Never doubt the value of your pupil’s input,” she said as she began to ride.

His eyes flickered shut. “A mistake common enough amongst instructors.”

And when they were spent, Jane held him in a close embrace.

“I am in danger, Loki…” she whispered.

“Of what, Jane?” as he stroked her back.

“Of falling…” she replied.

“I’ll catch you,” and he kissed her forehead.


	7. Chapter 7

That with music loud and long,  
I would build that dome in air,  
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!  
And all who heard should see them there,  
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!  
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!  
Weave a circle round him thrice,  
And close your eyes with holy dread  
For he on honey-dew hath fed,  
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

“The use of the term "fall" implies that the process is in some way uncontrollable and risky - as in the phrases "to fall ill" or "to fall into a trap" - and that it leaves the lover in a state of vulnerability.  
It may also reflect the importance of the lower brain centers in the process, which can lead the rational, accounting brain to conclude that "this falling in love routine is very bizarre....It borders on the occult”.” So said Wikipedia. 

Vulnerability…to be vulnerable. Loki looked at it and he felt somewhat trepidatious, but not so as he had heretofore.

Was he in love? Mmmm…not quite yet, he thought. But he was teetering on the precipice of the state, swaying and grasping for purchase.

He heard the knock. He should just give her a key.

Jane was standing on the other side of the door, and she was smiling. No, she was positively beaming.

“Guess what?” she asked, entering his apartment.

“What?” and he closed the door, following her to the sofa.

“I got an A!” and she showed him the paper.

He took it from her and he smiled. 98%.

Hang on. 98?

“Why is this a 98? What happened?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I take this as a personal assault on my abilities, Jane…98? I’m a fucking doctoral student,” and he paged through the paper.

Jane looked at him, and shook her head. “You’re no less brilliant because of a two percentage point discrepancy. Maybe it was me…”

“Are you kidding me?” he looked at the notes the prof had made. “Look at this. “Show a better connection between this source and your conclusion,” he can’t even leave grammatically sound comments, and he gives you a 98.”

“Loki…”

He stood. “What an ass hat. Truly, how does he expect to be given a modicum of respect when he writes that sort of idiotic rubbish as comments?”

Jane smiled.

“He’s up for tenure, you know. I can see to that, plant a seed of doubt in the committee…”

“Loki! Don’t you dare!”   
“What. You yourself said that he lacked ability in his teaching.”

“I did…but do you think that you’re overreacting a touch because you are taking this personally?”

He shifted and smiled, sitting next to her. “No.”

“No? Then maybe you think that your girlfriend always deserves 100%?”

“That, dear,” and he kissed her neck. “Is more likely the case…however, I believe I need to see to certain areas before a true 100% can be bestowed.”

“What areas?” she breathed, her eyes closing.

“Mmmm…just one or two…we should start lessons immediately.”

And she grabbed his face and kissed him.

But Loki pulled away and took her hands in his. “Jane, I wanted to ask you a couple of things…”

“Ok.”

He swallowed. “Well, you’ll be graduating on Sunday.”

“Heh, yeah, I know…”

“Yes. And I was going to travel to England the week following, visit my mother and such…Thor will be going. I believe he is bringing Sif.”

“Oh?” and Jane smiled. “Are they finally together?”   
“It would appear so…at any rate, I thought that perhaps you’d like to come with me…” he looked at her uncertainly.

“Um…I’d love to, Loki. But I can’t really afford the flight.”

“I’ll pay. It’s my idea.”

Jane took a deep breath. It was just a little unsettling that her boyfriend of less than two weeks was about to spend well over $1,000 on her. And she would be meeting his mother. Her gaze fell.

And his heart fell with it.

She didn’t want to go.

And love’s cry of caution did sound in their ears…

“Jane…look at me.”

She did.

“What are your concerns?”

“Well…” she sat back into the sofa. “I’m kinda poor…I don’t want you to be paying for me all the time…and…I guess I’m nervous about meeting your mother.”

“Are you afraid of some silly archaic notion of being a kept woman?”

Her eyes flashed for a second. “No. But it does make things awkward, wouldn't you say?”

He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair; he leaned forward and covered his face in his hands. A slow hiss of breath was to be heard emitting from between his fingers. “I’m not asking you to marry me, Jane.”

“I know.”

“Good,” he said, standing up. “Now, would you like to come with me, and let’s just ignore the monetary concern for a moment.”

“I…” she thought a moment. Yeah…she wanted to go. “Yes, I would like to go.”

He smiled and walked into the kitchen. “Then, dearest, you shall go. And I promise not to pay for anything untoward heretofore.”

Jane shook her head. Well, she had voiced her concern. She thought that it went rather well.

He gave her a glass of wine. 

“Loki. It’s two o’clock in the afternoon!”

“And you, Jane Foster, are graduating on Sunday with your B.S. form Harvard. You received an “A” you were convinced you’d never receive, and you are MIT bound. It’s a celebration.”  
She smiled. “I guess so. My 4.0 remains unscathed,” and she sipped.

“And your vocabulary is developing nicely.”

She laughed. “Must be the company I keep.”

“So…ah…Jane…” and he paused. He thought about the mistakes he had made with Sigyn, and hoped against hope that he wasn’t about to make yet another. But love, though unwelcome just yet, with his mad visage, his eyes burning, sweating, pulsing his instance, bade Loki on. “I had been thinking…”

Uh-oh. “Yeah?”

“Yes…about your PhD program at MIT…”

What was he gonna say. Don’t go? Because she would walk out the door that instant. “Yes?”

“I was thinking that things might be easier on us both, seeing as how I am writing a dissertation, and teaching, and you will be fully immersed in your science, composing a dissertation as well…that perhaps come fall, we can share an apartment…ease the worry of, you know, spending time together…and well, daily activities can be then shared.”

He looked uneasily at her.

Jane swallowed. “You want to move in together?”

He nodded. But quickly added, “If you want to think about it, that’s completely understandable. I just thought that you might want to…I thought that it might be easier.”

Wow. He moved fast. “You certainly know what you want, don’t you?”

“I do, though it doesn’t always coalesce with others’ desires.”

“Um,” she replied. She downed the glass. “Can we think about it? Maybe while we’re in England, we can talk some more…and decide when we get back.”

Loki nodded. “Of course.”

He sat back and took her hand, tracing circles in her palm.

She then laid her head in his lap, and smiled up at him. “What will you be teaching this fall? Did you get your assignments?”

His fingers left her palm, and went to her face…along her jawline. “I did…the email came this morning.”

“And?”

Down her neck, slowly they graced. “And I’ll be teaching 19th century poetry, and a freshman comp class.”

“Wow. That’s awesome.”

Down to her chest…there was a bit of exposed skin…her buttons weren't all the way done up. “It is rather exciting, to be able to flex that muscle in the classroom.”

He breath began to deepen. “Yeah…flexing of muscles…can be quite…invigorating,” she closed her eyes and swallowed.

His hand slipped under her bra and he teased her nipple erect.

Jane squirmed and sighed…she sat up and took off her shirt and bra…Loki watched her raptly. 

Off went her jeans.

And she climbed on top of him, undoing his shirt. 

She ran her hands over his chest, pressing her palms with stress…

“Loki,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss him.

His fingers traced near her sex, and finding it, inserted his forefinger inside of her…

Jane cried softly, and pushed against it. 

“Yes, Jane?” he kissed her neck…down to her breast, took her nipple in his mouth.

“What am I gonna do with you?” and she rocked.

He retrieved his digit and settled her into the sofa, taking off his pants.

He reached for the table behind them, and obtained a condom…

“No…” Jane said. “I trust you…I want to feel you…” and she took his hand.

“Not a good idea, dearest. The pill is only 99% effective…and we just had a conversation about the discrepancy of a mere percentage point or two…”

“But we were tested last week…no VD’s. I won’t get pregnant…just off my period..” and she threw the condom across the floor.

He watched it fly, and looked back at her. “Jane, I must insist…”

“Do you have these things everywhere, by the way? Where was that hidden?”

“One never knows when such a thing will be necessary,” and he smirked at her, but it quickly fell. 

He had, repeatedly, thought about making love to Jane sans a condom. It was what drove his masturbation reverie since they consummated…

But, he wouldn't know what to do if she ended up pregnant…they were both engaged in very rigorous academic demands. He wouldn’t give up his, nor would he ever expect her to abandon hers.

Her face was pleading…arms reaching…breath heaving…

“Jane, I…”

“Come on, Loki. Pull out if it’ll make you feel better.”

He swallowed. 

God help him.

He nodded. 

He leaned so that his elbows were on either side of her, and he kissed her softly. 

Jane rubbed his back…down her hands went…until she had his ass in her grasp.

She pushed him toward her, and he slid inside…

And the gasp they omitted in tandem was a violent hush, for everything stilled in that mid afternoon, as though night herself had descended…

His sex was an intense pulse, his urgency apparent in the adamantine firmness…and Jane quaked at his entry.

And he felt her soft warm embrace, slick with want, she stirred at his entry, a prism of primal need rippling through them both, though neither had moved since the initial action of ingress.

He breathed hard, swallowing and shaking a bit.

Jane felt as though she was a single heartbeat, rising up from her core and tearing her to pieces, whist simultaneously beading herself back together again.

Loki moved.

And her muscles swore.

He felt the tone inside hum, and he moved again…

Jane cried out…”Loki…” she sobbed.

He stopped, pulled up to look at her. “Are you alright?” he hadn't forgotten himself completely, though he hung by a thread.

“My god…” and she writhed about beneath him. 

“Jane?”

“Don’t stop…please…” and her legs wrapped tightly around him, the heels of her feet on his ass, pushing him further inside of her.

That was all that he required.

His thrust was fierce, and again and again…he was lost inside of her…and with every push she cried, until he felt her intimately surround his sex with her fluid…and he came hard…and moaned loudly…a sound of heaven reverberating against the caves of ice…

“Oh my god,” he stopped and pulled himself out of her. “I forgot…I was supposed to pull out…” He sat quickly away from her. “Jane, Jane…I’m sorry,” his face buried in his hands.

“It was me, Loki,” she sat up and touched his arm. “I won’t get pregnant, I promise…” she took his chin and made him look at her. “I promise, alright?”

“How can you promise such a thing?”

“Because. I just can,” and she kissed him. 

He laughed at her. ‘Alright. But if this comes to pass…mark my words, Jane Foster, you will live to regret it.”

“It was wonderful, though, wasn't it?” and she leaned her cheek on his shoulder.

“The stuff that dreams are made on,” replied he. “Shakespeare.”

“I know. Sheesh. I’m not that daft.”

He sat back on the sofa, and took her with him, holding her close in the wrap of his arm. “Jane…you recall…when we first started this, you told me that you were in danger of falling?”

“Mmmm, yes,” she traced his abdomen with her forefinger.

“I think that you’ve caught me first…”

She looked at him, and smiled. “Never doubt me, Loki. I know more than you realize.”

“That, Miss Foster, is debatable.”

And he kissed her soundly, filling on her sweet self…

For he on honey-dew hath fed, and drunk the milk of Paradise.


End file.
